STAR TREK

T-SHIRTS, JACKETS, AND KISSES

Author's Note:

Pairing: James T. Kirk/Spock

Warnings: Fuff, implied sexual content, mild language

Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to Gene Roddenberry, CBS and Paramount. I own nothing but the plot and make no money from this story.

JIM / Science Blue

'BRIDGE TO KIRK!'

The shout, along with the Enterprise suddenly tilting at forty-nine degrees, made Jim stumble out of an overly warm bed and slap his hand against the comm.

'Kirk here,' he answered.

'Sir, Klingon war vessel ahead of us,' Sulu reported. Jim could hear shouts in the background, but they were drowned out by Sulu. 'Request your presence immediately.'

'On my way,' Jim said, and was about to sign off when Uhura interrupted.

'Captain, if you can find Mr Spock, bring him with you,' she said, 'he isn't answering his comm.'

'Right,' Jim said. 'ETA five minutes. Kirk, out.'

He slapped the comm off and kicked out with his right foot, finally untangling himself from the blankets that'd wrapped around him. As he did, his bed partner sat up, hair ruffled adorably. Jim couldn't help but smile, despite the serious situation.

'Better fix yourself up there, Commander,' he teased as he hunted around for his pants, shirt and boots. 'Gotta get to the Bridge.'

'So I heard,' Spock replied. He didn't yawn, but he did look tired; he'd pulled a double shift, followed by supervising an experiment in one of the science labs directly afterwards. Even a Vulcan needed sleep, and this half-Vulcan had only got three hours in four days. Or four point three seven days, Spock would no doubt say.

Jim tugged his pants up, zipped and buttoned them, then tugged the shirt he'd found on the floor over his head. And all in less than twenty seconds, Jim was awesome.

Spock stared at him, as though he knew Jim's thoughts (and no doubt found them illogical), but Jim just winked and leaned down to kiss him. 'Seeya on the Bridge,' he said, and then promptly grabbed his boots and dashed out the door.

There were people rushing about, and a Code Red had been called, lights along the ceiling of every hallway flashing brightly. Jim tore down one hallway, took a left, ran down another, and finally fell into a turbolift. There were only three other people inside, and each said, 'Bridge!' as soon as Jim appeared.

'Thanks,' Jim grinned at them, and spent the short trip pulling his boots on. One of the ensigns gave him a funny look when they reached their destination, but Jim ignored it. It flew from his mind completely when the Enterprise tilted again, throwing Jim into one of Uhura's consoles. He managed to cling to a seat and hold on until the ship righted herself again, and then rushed over to the Captain's chair.

'Captain on the Bridge!' someone shouted, but nobody bothered with the usual stand-and-salute routine. Sulu shot from the Captain's seat liked he'd been burned, and re-took his own chair at the helm.

'Sir, the Klingon vessel appeared six minutes ago,' Sulu dutifully reported as Jim took his seat.

'They refused any of our attempts at communication,' Uhura took over, 'and fired on us two minutes after we'd spotted them.'

'Status of the Enterprise?' Jim demanded.

'All sectors report no damage and minimum injuries, Kepten,' Chekov replied. 'No casualties.'

'Good,' Jim said. 'Sulu, are the phasers armed?'

'Yes, sir,' Sulu nodded.

'Fire,' Jim ordered.

Sulu tapped a button, and echoed, 'Fire.'

The ship barely rumbled as she opened fire, and the Klingon vessel just visible through the main window lit up, its shields barely withstanding the barrage.

'Fire again,' Jim ordered.

'Repeat fire,' Sulu once more echoed, finger on the comm button.

It was then that Chekov, randomly, spouted, 'Kepten, your shirt.'

Jim frowned and glanced at the teenage genius. 'My shirt?'

The Klingons returned fire, and Jim gripped the armrests of his chair. This time the Enterprise only barely tilted, but Uhura reported another dozen injuries from some of the lower decks.

'Yees, your shirt, Kepten,' Chekov repeated. 'It appears to be... blue.'

Jim blinked. Frowned. Then looked down.

… ah. Well, that was a bit of an issue, wasn't it?

'Not now, Chekov!' he snapped, even while his cheeks turned pink. Gods, this wasn't the time to blush like a high schooler.

Chekov grinned but nodded, 'Yes, Kepten,' and turned to face the viewing window once more.

The Klingons returned fire once more, but the Enterprise was bigger, faster, with much stronger shields. One last phaser fire from her and the Klingon vessel exploded, scattering bits of debris in space.

Jim sighed and rubbed his eyes as he fell back into his seat. 'Damage report?'

Uhura and a few scientists worked for a minute, two, before responding.

'Twenty-one people have already reported to Sickbay, Captain,' Uhura said.

'Damage to the ship was minimal, sir,' one of Spock's underlings added. 'Only Engineering and Communications reported any damage, and it's not critical.'

'Lower the Alert to Green,' Jim ordered. 'And have a few teams sent to check Engineering and Communications. A small problem can turn into a big one. And knowing our luck, it would.'

'Oh, has the famous Kirk luck run out?' Uhura teased.

Jim laughed and spun his chair to look at her, giving her a leer for good measure. 'Never, Lieutenant Uhura.' Uhura finally turned to look at him properly, and her eyebrows rose. 'Lieutenant?' Jim questioned.

'Hmm... Chekov was right, sir,' she said.

'About...?'

'Your shirt does appear to be... blue,' Uhura said, eyes pointedly on his chest.

Jim looked down again-

Crap, right. He'd gone and put Spock's shirt on. In his defence, it'd been near-black in his quarters, and it had been an emergency; he hadn't had time to check if he was wearing the right shirt, dam it!

'Right...' Jim cleared his throat, 'about that...'

Shit. There was absolutely no reason why Jim would be wearing a blue shirt. What possible reason would require him to wear science blue? Operations red, yes, because he often wore one when he spent an entire day down in the engines with Scotty, and wanted to be treated like another crew-member rather than the Captain, just for a bit. But blue? Jim had only worn blue that one time he'd managed to convince Spock to role-play with him. And it had led to some fantastic sex at the hands of Captain Spock.

Speaking of Captain Spock...

The turbolift doors opened to reveal Spock, his hair still ruffled and a delicate green bruise working across his right cheekbone. He was wearing one of Jim's command gold shirts, and it was too short in the waist and cuffs, while it hung slightly over his stomach.

Spock was just that little bit taller than Jim, and slimmer in the waist, while a bit broader in the shoulders. Jim had always loved Spock's thin stomach and muscled chest, but now he was cursing both to the fiery depths of... something. A volcano!

The Bridge crew who weren't working were staring between the two- and some were doing both- while Jim too stared and Spock made his way towards his Captain and partner.

When he came to a halt beside Jim, hands clasped behind his back as usual, shirt stretching obscenely across his chest, Jim spluttered, 'Couldn't go back to your quarters and grab a spare shirt?'

Spock raised an eyebrow. 'I didn't realise that you had taken my shirt until I picked yours up, Captain,' he explained, 'and as the situation seemed critical, I decided that returning to my post was more important than switching your shirt for an appropriate blue one.'

Jim blinked. 'The attack stopped before you got here.'

'I was thrown off course by the last attack,' Spock explained. One hand came up to point once at the bruise on his face. 'I had only just made it into the turbolift when the Code Red was lowered. I couldn't stop the turbolift before it arrived.'

'Right...' Jim repeated, 'right.' He groaned and buried his face in his hands.

Okay, so he'd known that he and Spock couldn't keep their relationship from everyone forever. But he'd been hoping for more than three months. They were still getting used to sleeping side by side, and sharing their days and thoughts and feelings. Jim wasn't great at the whole "talk-about-your-feelings" thing, and Spock was even more repressed. But they were making great progress, partly because they didn't have anyone breathing down their necks.

They hadn't expected that until their annual physicals; because then they'd have to tell Bones that they were having regular sex, and who it was with, and what precautions they were taking, etc.

They'd planned to tell the others after that; Uhura and Sulu and Chekov and Scotty, the main team. The crew as a whole could be told later, when Jim and Spock were thinking about bonding. But they were nowhere near that, not yet, and Spock's pon farr wasn't due for another two or three years.

So... well, that whole plan was out the window, wasn't it?

'I think you look good in blue, Kepten,' Chekov said, trying both to ease the tension, and break the silence.

'Yeah!' Sulu joined in, way too enthusiastically. When Jim looked up, Sulu was sporting a shit-eating grin, and Chekov was beaming.

Jim sighed and purposefully avoided Uhura as he turned to look at Spock once more (he didn't think that Uhura was the crazy ex type, but she could totally take Jim and everybody knew it, Jim included). 'You okay?' Jim asked, his eyes softening when they found Spock's bruise.

'Quite, Captain,' Spock replied. 'A small bruise that will heal in approximately 6.7 hours.'

'6.7,' Jim echoed with a laugh. 'Of course.'

Spock raised his eyebrow of judgement, but Jim ignored it.

'Okay,' he clapped his hands together and used his feet to spin himself around. He faced Gamma Shift as a whole, ignoring their knowing looks and little smiles. 'Well, I'm going back to bed, because I worked Alpha and Beta Shift and I'm tired. Sulu, you have the conn, Lieutenant Jane will relieve you when Alpha Shift starts. Don't wake me unless it's another emergency.'

'Yes, Captain,' Uhura said. She didn't sound like she was in an "I'll crush your balls" mood, but Jim didn't look to find out. He just jumped out of his seat and practically fled to the turbolift, Spock on his heels as always.

The crew started talking before the turbolift doors had even opened.

'I knew it! You owe me a hundred credits, Sulu!' Uhura shouted.

'Damn it, I thought they'd be more obvious when they finally got it on,' Sulu replied.

'And I vill be collecting seven hundred credits from warious crew-members after my shift,' was Chekov's input. Kid sounded damn smug, and Jim face-palmed as he entered the lift.

'Officer's Deck,' he muttered and the doors shut, cutting them off from the crew's bickering about illegal betting pools.

'It seems that we underestimated our ability to be covert,' Spock broke the silence.

'Or the crew's ability to figure out something that was obvious three weeks into our first official mission,' Jim replied.

Spock hummed; something he only ever did in Jim's presence. 'It is true that our crew are the best in Starfleet,' he agreed. Jim grinned. 'What has you smiling, Jim?' Spock asked.

'Our crew,' Jim said, turning to face the Vulcan. 'You said our crew.'

Spock raised an eyebrow, but this one was softer; his "you are illogical but I adore you anyway" eyebrow. Jim had names for every one of Spock's facial expressions. And right now he was feeling warm, comfortable, not at all bothered by the Bridge crew- and soon enough the rest of the crew- finding out about them.

The turbolift doors opened, revealing the familiar white-washed walls of the deck that housed the officer's quarters. Jim's quarters were at the very end of the hallway to the left, Spock's directly beside his; they shared a bathroom, after all. Further on where Scotty, Bones, and the other heads of the departments, while at the other end of the floor housed most of the people above the rank of Lieutenant-Commander.

As he often did, Spock seemed to read Jim's thoughts, even before he reached out to link their index and middle fingers together in a sloppy Vulcan kiss. 'While it is earlier than we agreed upon, I find that I don't care about the crew discovering the truth of our relationship,' Spock said. His fingers squeezed Jim's, and Jim's smile widened. 'What of you, Captain?'

Like Spock couldn't tell. Jim tried to project everything that he always felt when he thought, looked at, or even remotely touched Spock; warmth, affection, humour, arousal, comfort, everything. Spock shivered minutely, and his fingers tightened around Jim's until he was grasping Jim's entire hand in his slightly larger one.

'I believe that neither of us is due on the Bridge for a number of hours,' Spock murmured.

'Beta Shift,' Jim nodded.

Spock nodded, too, and his eyes met Jim's; dark brown pools made even darker by their shared contact and emotions. 'Shall we return to your quarters, Commander Kirk?'

Jim let out a moan at the sudden wave of passion that raced through him from their hands, and nodded eagerly. 'Y-Yes, Captain Spock.'

Spock's lips twitched, and Jim watched them hungrily as they finally reached his quarters. Spock didn't look away from Jim as he tapped in the First Officer's code, a beep sounding before the door swished open. Spock circled Jim, not breaking contact until Jim's back was to the open doorway.

'I believe that you have, once again, forgotten the regulations about the uniform, Commander Kirk,' Spock said.

Jim bit his lip as Spock's hand left his, trailed up his stomach, and finally settled on his chest. A simple push was all it took to have Jim backing into his quarters.

'Let me go over the regulations with you,' Spock said, and damn, that kind of sentence should not be hot.

'After I'm appropriately punished, Captain?' Jim asked.

Spock smiled, properly; just a small one, but gorgeous none the less. 'Indeed,' he said. The door shut behind them, and Spock ordered Jim to his knees.

So there was an upside to outing themselves to the crew, after all.

K/S

'Goddamn it, Jim, I lost fifty credits to Uhura! I'm supposed to be your friend, damn it, and your doctor, why wasn't I informed of these changes? You know what, both you and the hobgoblin report to Sickbay at 1200 hours for a full physical! Oh, and Jim, feel free to wear blue; I bet it makes your eyes really pop. McCoy out.'

Jim scowled at the computer and felt Spock's chest rumble behind him. 'Are you laughing?' he demanded, rolling over in his partner's arms to fix a glare on him.

Said partner just smiled very slightly, face not at all serious as he intoned, 'Of course not, Captain. Vulcans do not laugh.'

Jim launched himself forward and attached himself to Spock's neck, the Vulcan groaning as he half-heartedly tried to pry Jim off. When he finally did Jim's work was done, and he grinned cockily.

'J-Jim?' Spock stuttered. Hah, totally got him to stutter.

'Explain that to Bones, you bastard!' Jim said.

Spock's eyes narrowed.

There was nothing Jim could do to protect himself. He tried, anyway, and it led to some fantastic morning sex.

Totally worth it.

K/S

Three hours later, Bones was glowering at the three hickeys on Jim's neck.

'Hey,' Jim offered his best friend a shrug, 'never try to one-up a Vulcan.'